


Hells Bells

by trollmela



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-17
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-31 13:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8579596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trollmela/pseuds/trollmela
Summary: Tony’s health was getting worse. As far as he was concerned, he could either give up living or die trying alternate ways to live. Rhodey and Pepper were getting more and more worried, and then there was Peter wanting to form a new Avengers team.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Gratuitous post-civil war Tony angst. I'm not sorry.

-ony, Tony!“

She had her eyes narrowed at him, and had clearly been trying to get his attention for a while.

Tony cleared his throat. “Will that be all Ms. Potts?”

Instead of answering and walking away as she had clearly been about to do before, she sat down in the chair across from him.

“What’s the last thing you heard?” She asked, and Tony should have been surprised at the gentleness in her voice instead of that fiery anger he was used to when she felt that he wasn’t paying attention.

“The patent infringement.”

She only nodded, and Tony couldn’t even tell whether that had been the right answer or a not so good answer.

“You’re spending a lot of time in the workshop at the tower. Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing yet,” Tony replied. “Still trying to improve... BARF. Including the name.”

She smiled a bit. “Yes, a different name would be good.” She looked away briefly. “Did you talk to Dr. Ryan about it?”

Tony shrugged. “He knows it exists, just as about any other person on this planet who wants to know.”

“You cancelled your last appointment with him and went to your GP instead.”

Tony narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you spying-“

“I have access to your calendar, Tony,” she interrupted him. She sighed. “Please, Tony. Just listen to me: I love you, and I’m sorry it didn’t work out between us. I’d like to remain your friend, and I know you think that’s a cliché, but you’re important to me. And right now, ever since the Avengers split up, you haven’t been in a good place. Maybe longer. I don’t know everything, but I can see that.” She paused. “It’s important to me that you’re okay. That you’re moving on to a better place.”

Tony blinked. His lips twitched a bit, but Pepper couldn’t tell if he wanted to smile or grimace. How long had it been since she had seen him happy? When had she last caught him reprimanding his bots like they were children, when had she last seen him even with that gleam of happy satisfaction in his eyes over a project of his?

“You were too good for me, Pepper.”

“No, Tony, I wasn’t too good for you. I just wasn’t right for you. I couldn’t handle your superhero activity; you need someone who can deal with that.” She sighed. “I had hoped that the Avengers-“

“That didn’t work out so well for me, did it,” Tony interrupted her, turning away from her to put an errant paperclip back into the top drawer.

“No, unfortunately it didn’t.” She shook herself. “You know, if you gave me a shot of the Extremis, I’d have a word with Steve, and I can’t promise that it would involve a lot of talking.”

To her surprise, Tony practically flinched, then tried to cover it up with a laugh. It sounded hollow, and his hand strayed up to his chest. Four broken ribs, she remembered; crescent-shaped deep tissue bruising over his chest; red-rimmed eyes and dark shadows when she visited him in the hospital.

“Tony, is there anything I should know about your health?”

Tony shook his head. “It’s been stressful, that’s all.”

“Okay.” She hesitated a bit, like she was considering asking more questions. “Just, talk to me if there’s anything, okay? Promise me.”

He met her eyes and nodded. “I will. If it’s worrying– who else would I tell but you and Rhodey?” There was definitely a grim clenching of his jaw.

“I’ll see if I can lighten your workload some. The presentation next week at CalTech-“

“I want to do that one,” he interrupted her. He hadn’t cared a wit about universities before, even MIT had had a hard time to get as much as a video call, let alone a commencement speech; now, it seemed almost as if he spent more time with students than any of his actual peers in business and technology, let alone anyone else like the remains of SHIELD, the Avengers initiative, and the UN.

“All right. The meeting on Thursday with R&D in Marseille then.” She hesitated. “Or how about you go to the meeting and stay a week at your house near Saint Tropez to relax? Take Rhodey, if you like, or maybe you just need some time alone. Away from... everything.”

Tony inclined his head. “Yeah. Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

They both knew that she couldn’t do anything about General Ross. Or not much. She had already instructed Tony’s PA not to let anyone related to the former Avengers initiative get through to him too often; it had given her no small amount of satisfaction after everything that happened.

“All right. I have to go.” She stood. “Take care of yourself, Tony,” she emphasized again. “Let me know about France.”

 

He skipped the next session with Dr. Ryan as well. It wasn’t even intentional. He was working, gadgets for the spiderling; prototypes that would ensure SI’s survival (and, hopefully, prosperity) for the next ten years at a stretch; improved legs for Rhodey; and suddenly it was half past the hour he should have been at therapy. His phone was silent, he’d muted Friday long ago, and he shrugged it off.

He felt bad about it the next day, but he didn’t mention it to Rhodey when they talked on the phone.

“Are you coming up on Friday?”

“Sure,” Tony said, even though he wasn’t actually sure. He supposed he’d make time.

He tried napping in the afternoon, but didn’t get long beyond twisting and turning before he woke up again, his heart beating wildly and his breathing erratic.

He went to the bar, his GP’s warnings echoing in his ear. But he was weak. He needed a drink, and it marked the end of his latest attempt at sobriety, which had lasted for all of three weeks.

He opened a bottle of Scotch which had been waiting for a good reason to be drunk for years now and poured himself a glass. The burn was sheer relief.

“Two choices,” he told himself. “Drink myself into a coma here, or get back to work.”

He stared at himself grimly in the mirror behind the bar. The dark bags under his eyes were truly impressive. He was also finding more and more wrinkles, and maybe even a grey hair, although his hairdresser regularly fixed the latter. The wrinkles, well, maybe there was something to the claim that worries and grief made one age more quickly. Maybe it was time to do something about those, too.

He went down to the workshop with the bottle.

He checked and rechecked the formula to make sure that he had at least a 90% chance of not turning himself into a fire-breathing, exploding dragon. Tony Stark was good at giving himself more options. But he wouldn’t have forever, and all he had left to rely on was himself.

He finished the bottle. The next time he opened his eyes, Rhodey was leaning over him.

“What- why’re’yu here?”

His mouth tasted like something died in it.

“It’s Friday, Tony,” Rhodey told him.

Tony was pretty sure that was impossible. Hadn’t he talked to Rhodey just today to talk about the upcoming weekend?

He tried to shake his head in a ‘no’, but Rhodey gripped his jaw and checked his eyes.

“Didn’t take anything,” he enunciated carefully.

“Except scotch,” an awfully young voice piped up. Behind Rhodey’s wide shoulders (not as broad as they’d been before, though), Tony found Peter with a bottle held carefully between two fingers.

Tony sat up abruptly, black spots dancing at the corner of his eyes, and looked away.

“Peter, would you mind waiting for us upstairs?” Rhodey asked, except he didn’t really ask.

“Sure,” the teen replied, sounding a bit despondent.

Tony curled his fingernails into the flesh of his palm.

“What is he doing here?” Tony asked after the elevator doors had closed behind Peter. Getting up off the floor wasn’t as difficult as he had feared. Rhodey, exoskeleton whirring, looked a bit more awkward. Maybe he could do something about that...

“He called me. He has access to the lab floor but when he arrived, the door wouldn’t open for him. He saw you lying on the ground through the glass and called me.”

“Friday?”

She didn’t reply.

“She’s off. I had to use the manual override.”

Tony found a keyboard and turned her back on.

“Good afternoon, boss,” she greeted, sounding miffed. Apparently Tony was just disappointing everyone these days. These months. These years. No, let’s be honest, his entire life.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face. The growing beard wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Sorry. I didn’t realize- I must have passed out or something-“

“For several days?” Rhodey asked. “When did you turn off Friday and lock down the lab?”

Tony shrugged.

“Tony. Talk to me.”

“I don’t _remember_ , okay? The last thing I remember is working after calling you.”

“Tony-“

“It’s not the alcohol,” Tony interrupted him. “Come on, I swear! Apparently I had several days to drink it!”

He’d drunk a lot more in the past without passing out for so long.

“Maybe not. But you can’t tell me that this is normal,” Rhodey said quietly. “You should do a blood test. Test the bottle as well. Pepper says you saw your GP recently. You also missed out on two therapy appointments. I called Dr. Ryan. Incidentally, PTSD can cause you to dissociate and lose time, too.”

“Can we... not?” Tony asked, and he sounded defeated even to himself. Like someone who didn’t know what to get up for anymore.

Rhodey bit his lip. “Not forever, Tony. I don’t want a repeat of the arc reactor poisoning.” He leant over him and framed his face. “I’m your friend, Tony! Do you trust me?”

Tony laughed a bit. “Oh Rhodey.... as if there was anyone else I could?”

“Pepper. Vision. Peter’s a good kid.”

“He shouldn’t have seen me like this.”

Rhodey only nodded, not even giving him a stern look for it. “Too late.” He clasped him on the shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Shower, shave, then food. I’ll let Peter pick.”

Tony nodded.

“Don’t think I’m going to ignore this. I’m not. But I get that you need a break.”

“Pepper said the same thing.”

“She’s right. When are you going to take one? Come on.”

* * *

“So,” Peter cleared his throat, then leant over to suck on the straw of his pepsi.

“Yes,” Tony asked, slowly feeling himself return to normal.

“When are we reforming the Avengers?” Peter spit out almost too quickly to understand.

Tony did understand, but at first he only blinked a bit. Rhodey calmly continued chewing his burger.

“What do you mean, reform?”

“There are other super-powered people, right?” Peter asked. “I mean, there are at least three others I’ve heard of right here in New York. We could, like, form a new team. Make a difference.”

“We?” Tony asked drily.

Peter flushed and looked away.

“Well, we’re not just going to, like, give up, right?”

“Listen to the boy, Tony. Telling us old-timers what to do.” Rhodey didn’t sound nearly sarcastic enough for Tony to buy that he disagreed with Peter.

Tony balled up the wrapping paper of his burger. Fast food. Of course Peter would pick fast food. Not that the billionaire could blame him; after all, the first thing he’d eaten once he got home after Afghanistan, had been a cheeseburger. And it had been the best damn cheeseburger he’d ever eaten.

“You think you can find me names?” Tony challenged Peter.

The teen’s eyes lit up. “Names of potential team mates?”

“Superhero names, abilities, their territory. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Oh I can get you the real names, too! I’m good at hacking!”

“I did not just hear that,” Rhodey said.

Peter’s eyes widened and he backed away from the kitchen table they were seated all around.

“He’s just like you, Tony. Remember, back at MIT?”

“Fashion was worse. And computers slower.”

“True.”

“All right.” Tony declared loudly. “That’s your job then, kid.”

“Awesome!” Peter dug out his cell phone. “Oh, crap! I should go home!”

“You need a ride?” Tony only asked.

“Naw, it’s okay. Subway is fine.”

Tony shook his head. “Friday, is Happy around?”

“Yes, Boss. Waiting for Ms. Potts.”

“Ask him if he has a minute to drive Peter home.”

“He does, boss. He’ll meet Peter in the garage.”

“Cool! Thanks, Mr. Stark!” Peter was almost past the other two men when he hesitated and turned back. “You’re going to be okay, right, Mr. Stark?”

Tony swallowed. He should lie. He really, really should, but what if he didn’t know anymore himself what the truth was?

“I’ll get better, kid.”

“Good. That’s... good, Mr. Stark. I’ll come by- Wednesday, maybe. School ends early then. I’ll come. That’s okay right?”

Tony nodded, but Rhodey added: “Maybe call first, Peter.”

“Okay. Bye!”

He gave them a wave and disappeared in the elevator.

 

“He’s a good kid, Tony.”

Tony shook his head. “I should never have gotten him involved.” 

“I think he would have gotten involved one way or the other. Is he too young? Yes, definitely. But maybe we can give him the training others didn’t and don’t get.”

Tony laughed a bit. “Us old-timers?”

Rhodey nodded. “Us old-timers, and maybe some newcomers.”

“So you like his idea?”

“Yeah. I think the Avengers, they stood for something, or should have stood for something, that we still need. The last defense. The ones who fight the threats that are too big for the rest of the good guys.”

Tony sighed. “That was the idea anyway.”

“You wanna watch a movie? And then bed?”

Tony nodded slowly.

“Tomorrow, we’ll figure out everything else.”

* * *

He called Dr. Ryan again and made another appointment.

And then he called Helen Cho.

“I need your help.”

“Tony?”

“Yes.”

There was a long pause.

“With what?”

“I’m working on... something. It’s personal. Not for any... outside use.”

“And I’m guessing it’s related to a field I know something about and not something like engineering or electronics.”

“I’d call it bioengineering. What do you know about the Extremis virus developed by Maya Hansen and Aldrich Killian?”

Her sigh was audible even over the phone. “Tony-“

He waited.

“What do you need it for?”

“I told you, it’s personal.”

He could imagine her frown as she weighed risks against opportunities, morals against scientific insight.

“I’m flying to Chicago for a conference next week. How about I drop by?”

“Sounds good.”

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel/second chapter may follow, but for the moment, I advise you to take it as a one-shot. I hope you enjoyed reading, reviews are always welcome.


End file.
